


We Would Always Find Eachother

by LokiOwnsTheTardis



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: AU, Cannon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, John finds answers in another universe, M/M, Male Pregnancy, Mpreg, Parallel Universes, Parent!lock, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-10 18:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11696952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokiOwnsTheTardis/pseuds/LokiOwnsTheTardis
Summary: John finds himself transported to a different universe, one in which his relationship with Sherlock is completely different; Can he understand that they were made for each other in any universe?





	1. Introduction

If you asked people what they thought about Sherlock Holmes, you’d get a lot of different opinions. You’d get half of them saying he is a freak and the other half saying he is a bit odd, but they are grateful he helped them. Then, there’s John Watson’s opinion. Now that’s a different thing, depending on the day Watson may go from “He is a twat” to “He’s quite curious and imaginative.” Though he always thinks that Sherlock would scowl at the last bit, god forgive he is anything but a scientist.  
If you asked people what they thought about John Watson, you’d get pretty much the same answer. You’d have his army mates that’d go saying he is a Casanova, you’d get the people at the clinic that say he is a kind, but busy man, you’d get his family who’d just shrug and say “Johnny is good.” Then, there’s Sherlock Holmes’ answer. He is going to give an answer quite different to the rest, but depending from the day it can go from “He is a ‘conductor of light’ ” to “He is an idiot”. Though he knows John would scowl at him for calling him an idiot.  
Sherlock today was being exceptional curious and John was being an impressive conductor of light, but that’s going a bit ahead of us.

\----- o0o -----

 

Sherlock woke up a Friday after not having slept for four days. They had finished an extremely fun case, though for John it was just a really dangerous one, last night and he had broken down after the high of actually catching the serial killer.  
He didn’t really remember going to bed the night before, so he just assumed John had carried him to his room, seeing as the smaller man was quite strong and he was still in yesterday’s suit. He stood up, still feeling a bit groggy from just waking up. He passed a hand through his unruly black curls and started slowly peeling away the tight shirt and the wrinkled dress pants.  
He walked to his closet and took out his Cambridge t-shirt and some pajama trousers. Grabbed the red gown that was hanging from the close door and with a yawn he walked outside his room. He directed to the bathroom. He stared at the mirror for few seconds before actually doing anything. He washed his face and, with his now wet hands, he tried to tame down his hair.  
He then got onto other business and came out a few minutes later feeling a bit more awake and a bit more bored.  
He walked out to the living room and found John sitting on the desk typing, completely immersed in himself, but as slowly as only he was able.  
Sherlock lay down on the sofa with a deep breath and carefully placed his hand in a prayer like form under his chin. Slowly he climbed into his mind palace to make some new arrangements after last night success.  
John woke up early, around 6:30. Yesterday he had ran his arse off following Sherlock around London. When he woke up he felt tired and his muscles ached. He sat up slowly, taking mind of his right shoulder that felt even worse than the rest of his muscles because of the bullet that had left him a few years ago with a horrible scar  
Always the early bird, he got onto his daily morning routine quite quickly. He walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower. He patiently waited until the water warmed up and started taking away his clothes.  
He instantly regretted starting with his t-shirt. His eyes stopped at the reflection of the scar upon his shoulder. Without noticing he took his left hand up to it and with his fingers traced the pater the bullet had imprinted on his skin.  
He sighed. After the infection all the chances of getting rid of the irregularities disappeared. It was a small circle with similar to a sun coming from it. The irony of it almost made John laugh, if it wasn’t because it was his skin he would have done.  
The steam coming woke him from his daydream. He hurried up to take the rest of his clothes of and walked inside the shower. He showered quickly, not wanting to leave Sherlock without hot water.  
When he got out of the shower he stared at his feet and how the water that dripped of his body pooled around his feet on the white tiles. For once he was glad that he couldn’t see himself in the steamed up mirror.  
He put on his robe and washed his teeth. He cleaned a circle in the window to brush his hair and walked out of the bathroom and into his room. No sound coming from Sherlock’s room yet. Good, he had some time to get something done before the detective woke up.  
He dressed in one of the jumpers Sherlock always seemed to be moaning about and some jeans before he walked down the stairs once again. He turned the kettle on and moved his shoulder slowly to make the stiffness go down, but it didn’t seem to help at all.  
He ended up taking a pill for it. He tried not to think about that a lot; it hurt in more ways than one.  
He started the breakfast and made Sherlock a toast and coffee he left on the table beside the sofa. He knew that the black haired man wouldn’t walk into the kitchen until later and only to make an experiment.  
When Sherlock came into the room he was way too concentrated into typing last night away into his blog. He saw the genius lie down on the sofa and take his usual pose. Of course he was going to ignore that breakfast he had made for him.  
After a few minutes Sherlock was back with the world and John took the instant chance to make him eat.

“Come on, you aren’t five year old. You have to take care of yourself once in a while if not always.” John groaned as he stood up.

“I’ll do as I please, is the good thing of being an adult. No one tells you what to do.”

If John hadn’t been trying to get him to eat, he would have laughed out loud at that. “Do it for me? I made it for you; I don’t want to have you passing out on me.”That at least had seemed to work on him. Sherlock started eating soon enough, and John was pleased even if it was for a few minutes.

“Thanks.” He said with a small smile.

Sherlock just hummed and kept eating.

God this was going to be a long day.

 

\----- o0o -----

 

A day wasn’t a day to Sherlock if he didn’t experiment at all. So after finishing the precarious breakfast John had given him, he entered the kitchen and checked the experiment he had left alone the last three days to catch the killer.

In a very small amount of words, the experiment was now in ruins. Whatever the compounds on the chemic reaction where, they had turned the glass breakers to slim-y wime-y and were in the process of doing exactly the same to the table.  
So he had left it. Of course he had left the stupid thing, not really caring about what it would do to the table, or the floor, or what would happen to their lovely land lady if she tried to clean it.

This was Sherlock’s mess to clean up, but John, being the bright knight in armor he was, felt the need to do it himself instead of dragging a consulting detective to it. Armed with a sponge and paper John started cleaning it. Sherlock walked into the kitchen the same moment John remembered he probably needed gloves to clean whatever this was.

“John, wait!” He shouted, but it was too late.John eyes had already fallen close and he was falling to the floor in what to the genius felt like slow motion.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get to know the other universe a little bit better

In the Watson-Holmes household Sherlock was lord and sir. John was pretty much mother, given the special condition in his anatomy that made him the actual breeder of the family.

Even though Sherlock felt like he was the one that ruled on the house he was most of the time going around London solving cases and crimes. John had stopped going with him after Hamish had been born. Someone had to take care of the small child and John knew Sherlock wouldn’t stay behind or away from cases just to take care of him.

They had married the 7th of October a few years ago, five to be exact. Mycroft had organized a small ceremony for them in Sherlock parent’s Sussex house. It had been a really nice wedding to not to talk about the honey moon in Paris.

The only thing that bothered John was how easily they had gone back to normal. Back to chasing criminals down the street. And it was worse after Hamish was born, if the boy saw his father is was either once a day in the morning or when there weren’t any cases and he was busy with an experiment.Their love faded quite quickly, Sherlock never home and John was always worried with Hamish. When the boy was at the school John had to cook and then try to make the house tidy. Mrs. Hudson was too old clean Baker Street.

That was exactly what he was doing in the precise moment he heard a loud sound coming from the kitchen. He walked down from what once was his room and now was Hamish to see what had happened.

“Bloody hell, Sherlock! What have I told you about your experiments?” John heard the shout for the kitchen.

Who in the world would have thought that John Watson was going to appear on John Watson-Holmes’ house?  
John walked into the kitchen and stared at the floor, a blond man lay in the floor looking angry and quite like him. The man sat up as he rubbed the back of his head where John assumed he had hit himself.  
He couldn’t hold in the gasp that ran through him the moment the man looked up at him.

Then man on the floor couldn’t either. As if they had arranged it before, both men pointed at their chest before pointing at each other's. The man from the floor sat up and quickly and grabbed onto the table as he rose.

“Who are you?” John asked his hand covering his stomach and the other pointing at the stranger that looked way too much like him.

“Watson, John Watson… Who are you?”

John felt fear and adrenaline mix in his veins. What the hell was going on? What this one of Sherlock experiments?  
“John Watson-Holmes.” He replied under his breath.

Watson took a step backwards, breath caught in his throat along with the words he wanted to say.

“Bloody hell…” He muttered. “So… Watson-Holmes? You married…?” Watson trailed off with a small shrug as if that finished the question.

John nodded softly. “About five years now…” He said with a small smile, mostly to himself.

“Wow…” Watson muttered passing a hand through his hair and then down his face.

“Sorry to ask, but… How did you get here?” John asked walking towards the kettle. He might be a little scared, but he was still British and there was no way he would show how shocked he actually was.

He turned it on and turned at a very confused Watson trying to understand how the hell he had ended up here.  
“I tried to clean Sherlock’s experiment… Then I was here… ” He mumbled. “Wh-What year is it?” He asked softly, his mind supplying that maybe this was just the future.

“2017.” John replied as he set two mugs. “How do you take yours?” He asked, thinking that probably the same way he liked his.  
“Oh, same year.” So this just was a different dimension in which he was braver. “Splash of milk and two sugars, thanks.”  
John nodded and smiled softly. “Just as me, then.” Watson smirked and chuckled slightly. They set into a comfortable silence as the kettle boiled and John started actually preparing the tea.

Watson eyes travel around the kitchen and he tried to play spot the difference. The main was that there actually was a small freezer by the fridge that said ‘Experiments Only’ He had tried to buy one, but when he had offered Sherlock to go half and half he found out they were quite expensive. He was quite pleased to find no experiments on the actual table, but in more near the sink.

John set a steaming mug in front of him and he cupped it with his hands. John sat down and Watson took a sip before looking up at him.

“Would you… Could you tell me how that happened?” Watson mumbled the answer, not sure if was okay for him to ask.  
John nodded softly. “I met him about 12 years ago… First three years were bliss of running case after case. I don’t know if it happened to you two, but then Moriarty came and… Sherlock faked his own death. He never let me know the real reason behind it, but he was gone for two years…”

Watson practically grimaced at the mention of Sherlock’s suicide, but it came to his mind that he himself didn’t know why Sherlock had actually done it.

“It happened to you too then, alright… When he came back, well, I had found someone.”  
Mary. Watson nodded his agreement, not daring to trust his mouth to actually convey his emotions.

“Well, Michael was a really nice person and all, but with Sherlock back it was practically impossible for me to let him go and put himself in danger again.”

Wait, what?

Michael? As in Male Name Michael?

“I was going to ask him to marry me the day after Sherlock came back; I had planned it for weeks… But I want back to him, and then to dating and as always Sherlock didn’t like any of the people I chose. Is he like that with you?”  
Watson nodded and smiled softly. Having a girlfriend with Sherlock around was harder than fighting at Afghanistan.  
“So after the last girlfriend, Judy I think her name was, I told him that he could pick someone he didn’t hate for me to date.” John said with a sigh.

Oh, so they really were a like. Watson though after he heard girlfriend and Judy.

“He said there wasn’t anyone worth of me and I tried not to give it any importance, but it got me thinking, you see?” He continued, hands creeping onto his mug tight. “So the next day after I made up my mind and I decided I had to be brave.  
I waited for him on the sofa and when he came back I sat him in the sofa and told him he was the person I thought was worth of me and kissed him before he could reply.”

Both men chuckled and John grinned at Watson.

“He wasn’t experience less in this area per se, but in kissing… God, he was horrible. Thank god he is quite the fast learner.”  
Both laughed and somehow Watson had imagined Sherlock would have been that way. No that he had thought about kissing his flat mate, of course not, never.

“We dated for a year before we got married… He proposed with Molly’s help, not that he is ever going to admit that.” John said as he looked up.

“He took me in a case and we finished it at Bart’s… He took me to the rooftop even though I was a bit hesitant about it.” Watson swallowed hard at the thought of going there. “Essentially he promised that he was never going to leave me again.”

Watson looked away as John rubbed his hand through his puffy eyes, threating to spill tears.

“Wow, that’s quite a proposal.” Watson said with a smile in hopes to make the other man more comfortable with it all.  
John nodded. “We asked Mycroft for help, well, I asked Mycroft help for the wedding. And then after a year of marriage we decided to try for children.” John turned red from head to toe. “After I made sure that Sherlock understood that it wasn’t in any way and experiment for him to work on.”

“Wait… Try?” Watson asked looking up back again. “Not adopt?”

If it was possible for John to get even redder, he did.  
“No… I guess we aren’t similar in that way then.” He muttered. “I’ve got… Let’s say, special anatomy.”

Oh.

“Alright…” Watson nodded slightly and added just to hurry up the conversation into turning something awkward. “Did it work out?”

John nodded and reached for his phone as the proud father he was.

“Yes, Hamish Watson-Holmes.” He passed the picture to Watson with a grin that took almost his whole face.  
From the phone a young boy, maybe five or four years old, looked up at John. A soft mix of Sherlock’s cold eyes and John’s electric blue. He had a mop of raven black curls just a Sherlock, but he smiled as softly as John did.

“He looks a lot like you two.” Watson said as he passed that phone back, his voice hesitating at the ‘you too’, his mind quickly providing ‘Us’. John nodded, his smile going down a bit. “Since he was born it’s all I have time to think about, but Sherlock still goes on cases.”

Watson could practically sense the disappointment in the blond words. He knew how bad he felt when he had chosen Mary instead for running through London with his best mate.

“It’s hard, without a doubt, but Hamish is worth it. He is an amazing son.” John murmured before taking a sip from his mug. “He is just as brilliant as his Dad, but he knows how to handle him just like us.”

The doctors chuckled over their tea. “I don’t know why I can imagine it any other way.” The blond man continued wit5h the soft smile still tugging at his lips. “He is just the perfect mix between us.”

The conversation went on and on. The tried to find some irregularities between the two words they came from, such as John didn’t liked oysters, but Watson did. Or John was never Captain of the rugby team, but Watson had. Or like John was shot in the left shoulder and Watson on the right even though both were left handed.  
Sadly Harry still was an alcoholic in this world and Sherlock still had struggled with drugs.  
Lestrade was DCI here; instead of just the DI he was in Watson dimension.  
Molly had married Irene in this world, and wasn’t forever crushing on Sherlock Dashing Holmes.

For now Watsinvwas certain he liked this world better than his own; for starters he would have married Sherlock in this one.  
He had been braver here, and somehow he couldn’t get that out of his head.


End file.
